Setting Things Right
by Dolphingirl32173
Summary: John succeeds in killing Damon on Founders' Day, causing Elena to fall into a despair so deep no on can drag her out of it. Then she finds out that she can have a chance of setting things right. But will she succeed? Full summary inside. SPOILERS!
1. Prologue

Setting Things Right  
DG32173

Sarah: I saw a fanfic with this theme, but the author never finished it. So I decided to write my own version of the theme, with a major difference from that fanfic. I hope you enjoy.

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
I would _not_ be writing _fan_fics about the series if I owned it. Well, okay, _maybe_ I would. But I _don't_ own it. What I write is the _only_ thing I own.

_**WARNINGS**_  
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! MASSIVE SPOILERS ALERT! Mostly spoilers for season one, but there is one memory scene that comes from Season 3 finale. There could _possibly_ be other spoilers as well. Rated M for my sanity. Not that I have any. Elena's viewpoint. Also, combining elements I _know_ are in the books – though I haven't read them yet – with what is known in the show.

_**SUMMARY**_  
After John succeeds in killing Damon on Founders' Day, Elena drops into a state of despair that no one can pull her out of. When Bonnie finds out from the spirits that Damon was _not_ supposed to die that day, she is given a spell to send Elena back to a point in her relationship with Damon where she can start setting things right as well as making the right choices. But _only_ Elena will remember what happens and she can't exactly tell people _how_ she knows things she shouldn't… _**Damon/Elena**_

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Prologue

"What does it matter to me if they die? They're monsters, Elena," John tells me.

"As my father, it should matter if my friends die. I'll never forgive you if anything happens to them," I snap, shoving past him as the shock of finding out that I know our true relationship paralyzes him. I continue racing around to the back of the building. As I'm about to dash in the back door, Bonnie grabs my wrist to stop me. I whirl on her. "This is _your_ fault!" I yell at her. "I _trusted_ you! And you _lied_ to me!"

"I'm _sorry,_ Elena!" she cries, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I did what I thought was right! I didn't think they would get caught up in it!"

I try to tug my wrist from her grasp, but she has a vice-like grip on it. "Let me go! I swear to God, Bonnie, if something happens to them, I will _never_ speak to you again!" I shout.

She ignores me and starts chanting softly. I don't know what she's saying but I can feel her magic writhing in the air around us. I turn to stare at the doorway, searching for a sign that the brothers are okay, my heart in my throat. Then I see shadows making their way through the smoke as Bonnie collapses next to me, releasing my wrist. Anna is the first to break free. She gives me a look so full of sorrow that I _know_ something has gone terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry. I would have saved him, but the vervaine wouldn't let me move," she tells me.

My heart starts to break apart at her words. I turn my attention to the other shadow. A sound like a dying animal rips its way free from my throat as I rush to Stefan's side. "No! No, no, no, _no!"_ I sob, taking Damon's head in my hands as my eyes land on the stake through his heart.

I know instantly that John was the one who murdered him. I feel the tears streaming down my face as I hold his head to my chest, trying to will him back to life. I use one hand to yank the damn stake from his chest and toss it away, wishing that that would be enough to bring him back. But I know deep down that he is never coming back to me. Not this time. My entire body is wracked with heart-wrenching sobs. I hadn't realized until now how much I had come to rely on him. I hadn't realized until now how much I had grown to love him. And now he will never know. I will never get to tell him how, in the end, he has won my heart.

I vaguely feel someone's arms wrap around me, saying words I can't understand. A black hole had burst into existence and sucked me in the second I saw Damon's body. There is no way out of it, not without Damon in my life. Nothing will _ever_ be the same again.

We buried him next to his mother on the old Salvatore estate the next day. A large part of me is in that grave with him. Stefan gave me Damon's ring as a keepsake. I wear it on a chain around my neck, a constant reminder of what I had lost. John packed up and left that week, giving me an apology that I'm sure he meant. But I couldn't forgive him for something that cannot be brushed under the rug and forgotten. I didn't even look at him as he walked out the door.

I no longer bother with school. All I do anymore is eat, cry, shower, and sleep, only to dream of him. I know everyone is worried about me, but I can't bring myself far enough from the depths of this black hole to care. I know Jenna doesn't understand what caused this drastic change in me. She was told that Damon left town and is never coming back. I haven't said a word since then, that I know of. I might call out to him in my sleep, but that is it.

It's been three months since his death. Stefan left town today. We have a shaky friendship now. He knows he reminds me of what I lost. So he decided to say goodbye today and leave so he doesn't continue to cause me heartache every time I see him. He finds me laying on Damon's bed in the boarding house. I spend a lot of time in his room, going through his things or simply laying on his bed, reminding myself of his scent.

"Elena?" Stefan calls softly from the door. I turn my head towards him. "I decided that I should leave, and I decided I'd go today." I nod slightly. "I wanted to say goodbye before I left."

"Miss you," I manage to croak in a voice rusty from disuse.

His eyes widen in surprise that I actually spoke. "I'll miss you, too. You have a key to the house, and you're welcome to come anytime, even when no one is actually living here." He pauses, as if debating whether or not to tell me something else. He sighs. "Someone came over to see you," he says, stepping aside to show Bonnie.

I lunge out of bed faster than they expect and stalk up to her in a predatory fashion. "Why should I talk to _you?"_ I snarl viciously, my voice coming back the instant I see her. "It's _your_ fault he's dead! _It's your_ fault he's not coming back! I should _kill_ you like you killed him!"

Suddenly, as I'm reaching forward to wrap my hands around her neck, Stefan grabs me, holding me back. _"Listen_ to what she has to say, Elena," he says. Even with vampire strength, he has to struggle to keep my arms behind my back. "There might be a way to make things right again!"

"I know you don't want to see me," Bonnie says quickly, her eyes wide with fright. "But the spirits said that Damon was _not_ supposed to die that day. They gave me a spell that I can use to send you back to a point in time where you can alter history so that he _lives._ I can give him _back_ to you, Elena!"

The fight goes out of me in an instant as I stare at her in shock, her words sinking in one-by-one. "I can save him?" I ask weakly. "I can have him back?"

"I can send you back to the point where your relationship with him took the first major turn towards love. That's where you have to start rewriting history before it happens again, and you can end up saving his life rather than burying him again. I have to warn you though, the one who was _supposed_ to die that day was Anna. There is a _slight_ chance where you can save both of them, the spirits said."

I barely hear her, overflowing with joy at the thought of being able to have Damon back with me. "I can have him back," I whisper, tears of joy in my eyes. "I can have him back."

Bonnie grabs my arm and I look in her eyes, knowing she can see the life returning to mine. "Elena, you will be the only one who will know what will happen. You have to be _extremely_ careful who you tell. It's preferable that you tell _no one,"_ she says emphatically, making sure that her words register this time.

I nod. "Okay," I say softly. "Tell no one what I remember if I can help it. Got it."

Bonnie gives Stefan a look; he releases me and steps away. Bonnie takes a deep breath. "Now, I want you to concentrate on the point in time you started developing feelings for Damon," she tells me, lightly touching the edges of my face with her fingers. "Let me know when you got it."

I think hard over the course of my relationship, analyzing the twists and turns it took. Then I realize that, of _course,_ it had to start on that trip to Georgia. There's no way around that. I nod, once, focusing on the moment I woke up in his car with everything in me as Bonnie starts chanting. I feel myself start to detach from my body, floating on a kind of magical wind. Slowly, my memories start playing before me, starting from the most as the wind carries me backwards. The wind and memories seem to pick up speed, going faster and faster until I have to close my eyes against the dizziness. That helps block out the memories somehow. But the wind is soon at category five hurricane force, and I'm caught up in it.

Then, everything stops and I feel myself waking up to slight pain in my body. I open my eyes.


	2. Georgia

Setting Things Right  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter one. I hope you enjoy.

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
Seriously, people. I can't even claim ownership to this theme, so how can I _possibly_ own _The Vampire Diaries?_ I can't. The _only_ thing I can claim ownership of is what I write.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_  
Wow, I only had the prologue up for a few hours and when I checked back on it I already had _three_ reviews! **TVDiariesObsessed, Meskin10,** and** Destiny4eva,** thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the prologue and thought it was more original than _I_ felt like it was. It will keep getting more original as we continue. This is an _especially_ long chapter. I had already written it, but I post it in dedication to you three. Again, thanks for the kind reviews.

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Chapter 1  
Georgia

As I blink my eyes open, I see the Georgia scenery going by outside the passenger window of Damon's car. I turn my head to the left. And he's there. Damon's there, _alive._ I have three months to set things right so he _doesn't_ die on Founder's Day.

"Morning," he says, sending me a smirk.

I look around. I can't give any hint that I know what is going on. "Where are we going?" I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable

He raises an eyebrow at me. "A little place outside Atlanta," he replies. "We're almost there."

"Okay," I say.

Both eyebrows are up at that. "Okay?" he repeats. "Are you sure you don't have a concussion?"

"I'm okay, why?"

"I expected you to put up one _hell_ of fight about this," he replies with a shrug.

"Even if I _wanted_ to put up a fight, which I don't, it wouldn't do much good. You're the one driving," I point out. "And I do need a break from what's been going on in my life." That's the truth! "Spending that break from life with you sounds fun."

"I'll get you home safely," he promises. Then my phone rings. He pulls it out of his back pocket, glances at it, then offers it to me. "It's your boyfriend." How could I not have noticed that touch of jealousy in his voice the first time around?

I take the phone and turn it on. "Hello, Stefan," I say.

"_Elena? Where are you? Are you okay?"_

"I'm okay. I'm with Damon. I'll talk to you when we get back."

"_You're with _Damon?_ Tell me where you are. I'll come get you."_

"Yeah, about that," I say slowly. "I don't _need_ you to come get me. I'm safe with Damon." Damon glances at me curiously at that before turning his eyes back to the road. "And before you start to assume anything, _no,_ he is _not_ compelling me. So, like I said, I'll talk to you when we get back. Don't call back, because I won't answer. Bye, Stefan." I hang up on his protests. Then I settle back in my seat, sending a smirk at Damon.

He chuckles. "So, the kitten has the makings of a tigress in her, huh?" he teases.

"You better believe it," I tell him smugly. A flood of euphoria surges through me at being able to hear that once-hated nickname fall from his lips again.

"What's got you so hyped up?" he asks.

I send him a sly grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I tease.

"You just woke up in my car, in Georgia, after being in a car crash. You aren't demanding that I turn around and take you back to Mystic Falls. You've practically got this _glow_ of happiness around you. You told my brother to leave you alone until we get back, something you would _not_ have done yesterday. You even _let_ me call you kitten. I think I have a right to know if you're going crazy considering I'm pretty much responsible for you until I get you home," he retorts.

I chuckle. He would _never_ believe the truth. "I'm _not_ going crazy. I'm just very happy right now," I reply.

He raises an eyebrow at that. "That's not really an answer, you know," he points out when I stay silent.

"That's all the answer you're getting," I retort. "I plan on having fun on this break from life."

He rolls his eyes as we finally reach the small town Bree's Bar is in. We pull into the bar's parking lot. He glances at me when I don't protest as we get out. "No protests?" he asks.

"I just hope you know a way of getting me in without a fake ID. Mine's at home," I reply.

He chuckles as he leads me inside. I watch with barely suppressed jealousy as the overenthusiastic greeting between him and Bree plays out. He'll be mine soon enough. I'll make sure of it. Then she's asking me how Damon roped me in. "I don't know _how_ he managed to pull it off," I tell her honestly, causing her to laugh. Next to me, Damon nearly chokes on the shot glass of bourbon. He was expecting me to deny being roped in, not 'play along' as he probably thinks I'm doing. As he reaches for my shot glass, I snatch it away and down it.

Damon gives me a pointed look. I know what he wants to talk about. "I'm calling Jenna," I say, grabbing my cell phone and walking outside to stand next to the Camaro. I select Jenna's name from my contact list and hit talk.

"_Elena? What happened? Where were you last night?"_ she demands.

"About that," I say slowly, deciding to give her a _heavily_ watered down version of the truth. "I was at Stefan's. We had a fight and I left. I kind of crashed my car. Don't worry! Damon got me out and made sure I was okay. He decided I need a break from Stefan and took me on a road trip with him."

Jenna sighs, obviously annoyed. _"Why did you _agree_ to go on a road trip right after a car crash?"_ she demands.

"I wasn't exactly _asked._ I sort of fainted in his arms from the overload of stress. By the time I woke up, we were already a couple states away, I know he'll keep me safe and bring me home in one piece, so I decided to roll with it."

"_Stefan called, trying to find out where you are. He sounded upset."_

"_Stefan_ doesn't have the right to be upset. _I'm_ the one who was lied to about something of major importance. If he calls again, tell him that I'm out of state, and you don't know which state I'm in. You won't even be lying."

Jenna chuckles. _"Well, if he lied about something that important and you caught him in the lie, he needs to be able to handle the consequences,"_ she agrees. _"I'll figure out something to tell the school."_

"Thanks, Jenna. I knew you'd understand. See ya when I get back."

"_Don't be gone _too_ long. I don't have_ that_ good an imagination. I'll see you when you return. Love ya, kid."_

"Love ya, Jenna." We hang up. Just as I turn to head back to the bar, Stefan calls again. I growl in frustration. Can't he take a _hint?_ I answer. "Stefan, I said don't call back," I tell him angrily.

"_Elena, you need to let me explain,"_ he pleads.

"I don't _need_ to do anything. You _lied_ to me, Stefan. I can _handle_ the truth. I can handle that you and Damon are vampires. I can handle that my best friend is a witch. I can even _handle_ that I look _exactly_ like Katherine for some damn reason. What I _can't_ handle is that you _lied_ to me about what she looks like," I snap.

"_I'm sorry, Elena. I was trying to protect…,"_ he starts, but I cut him off angrily.

"I don't _need_ to be protected from the truth, Stefan. It comes out sooner or later, and liars always get caught eventually. I _hate_ being lied to. If you call again, I _will_ let voicemail pick up." I hang up as he tries to protest.

I turn around and jump when I see Damon behind me. "You okay?" he asks, searching my face.

"As okay as I can be when I keep getting calls from someone I don't want to talk to," I tell him.

He smirks, wraps an arm around my shoulder, and leads me inside. "Well, I ordered us some food," he says conversationally. "Considering you missed breakfast this morning and I doubt you had dinner last night, I figured you'd be hungry."

"Starving, actually," I agree as we walk through the door. Bree sits the burgers and fries in front of us and passes Damon a beer. "I'll have one, too," I pipe up.

"Hmm?" he asks around a mouthful of French fry, glancing at me.

"I figured I might as well enjoy this break from life to the fullest," I tell him with a grin.

Bree pass me a beer as well. I clink beer bottles with Damon. Then I lift the top bun off my burger and immediately set the pickles to the side, knowing what his reaction will be. "Come on. You don't like pickles? What's wrong with you?" he demands, snatching them up.

"_You're_ the one with something wrong with them for liking those things," I tease. He chuckles. A few more bites in, I ask the same question I asked originally, even though I know the answer. "So, how are you able to eat if technically you're supposed to be dead?" I ask, lowering my voice for 'dead'.

"So long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, my body functions pretty normally," he replies, lowering his voice on 'blood'.

"Stefan has to feed a lot more often than you do," I comment, bringing up a subject I've been meaning to discuss. "Why is that?"

"_Yeah,_ animal blood is nowhere _near_ as filling as human blood," he says, munching on a fry. I raise an eyebrow at him, wondering how he knows that. He grimaces. "I _kind of_ opened my big mouth and promised to go a week on his diet to prove something. Worst week _ever._ Not only did I _have_ to feed more often, but _everything_ that makes immortality worth it was dulled down _big time._ Speed, strength, stamina, healing, pain block, powers, _everything_ was diminished. After a hundred and forty-five years of reaping the benefits of being a vampire, it was almost like I had turned back into a human again, just a slightly enhanced one."

I grimace. "So that's why you're so much more powerful than he is," I murmur.

"Well, _one_ reason, yes," he concedes. "But even on _his_ diet, I was still better than him. I _do_ admit there is _one_ perk to his diet. My vision, hearing, and sense of smell _were_ stronger than on human blood. But those play key roles in survival for animals. Taste and touch, which aren't as important to an animal's survival, where diminished as much as everything else. I guess vampires _literally_ take on enhanced aspects of our prey."

"So, Stefan can see, hear, and smell better, but you're stronger in everything else?" I ask, taking a bite of my burger.

"Pretty much," he agrees.

I finish chewing my bite of burger and swallow it. "So, I know you're able to compel people not protected by vervaine, but what else can you do in the 'powers' department?" I ask.

"I can manipulate dreams," he says with a smirk. "I can also shape-shift into a raven or a wolf."

I narrow my eyes. "There was a raven following me around all summer," I remember.

"It wasn't me _personally._ I _had_ a tame raven that let me see through its eyes whenever I wanted to."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of _'had_ a tame raven'."

"Stefan locked me up in the basement for three _days,"_ he growls. "He spiked Caroline's drink with vervaine that night you yelled at me about the bites on her and I fell for the trap."

I raise an eyebrow. "You were going to kill her _at the party_ because I got mad at you?" I ask. I'm not exactly surprised that he would try to do it. I'm more surprised that he would try do it at such a public setting.

"I didn't succeed," he points out. "The second I tasted her blood, I was weakened enough for Stefan to overpower me. He gave me a shot of vervaine while I was down. He got me back to the boarding house and locked up in a cell in the basement where Zach was secretly growing a patch of vervaine. Apparently our living relatives passed _that_ down the line alongside our secret. Well, it took three days, but I managed to get out. Had to feed on my raven to get enough strength to get out at nightfall and go on the hunt. Sad thing about birds is that their size doesn't allow for much blood. I was _starving_ and on the verge of desiccation by then."

"And that's when you found Vicki and her friends," I say softly.

He shrugs. "Yep," he says, popping the 'p'. "I usually _don't_ go after druggies, but I was desperate and she and her pals where the first humans I came across. Vampires can't overdose, but blood loaded with drugs will get us high too. That girl just _refused_ to die, though, in spite of the fact that I drained so much blood from her that she _should_ have. So I took her back to the boarding house before dawn."

"Why did you turn her? I doubt it was because you liked her," I say. He opens his mouth, but I quickly cut in. "And _don't_ say it was a pity turn. You don't do pity."

He smirks. "How did you get to know me so well?" he asks curiously. I just smile at him and eat a fry. "Well, I guess I turned her mostly because I was bored. Add in the fact that she just would _not_ die when she was supposed to, I was curious what kind of vamp she'd make."

"A _terrible_ one," I tell him.

"I know that _now._ I should have known better than to turn a druggie. Druggies have zero self-control, and vamps _need_ self-control if they want to survive long."

"Why did you _really_ send me away after Stefan called you to take care of the mess you made?"

"I _told_ you that night. You were bleeding. I was still _very_ hungry and you were a _huge_ temptation."

"You mean you wouldn't have been able to live with yourself if you hurt me," I tease.

He rolls his eyes while he finishes his mouthful of burger. After he swallows, he takes a gulp of beer before answering. "I wouldn't put it like _that,"_ he retorts.

"Well, how _would_ you put it?" I prod.

"One, I didn't feel like giving my brother a reason to try to put me _back_ in that damned cell because I knew he'd make it a _hell_ of a lot harder to get out of again. Two, you'd already lost a _lot_ of blood. Considering how hungry I was, I _would_ have drained you completely if my mouth got anywhere _near_ your skin. Three, I _would_ have regretted killing you."

I nod. "So, back to the list of powers you have," I say, holding up my fist to tick off the ones already listed "We have shape-shifting, dream manipulation, and compulsion so far."

"I can control weather to an extent; I'm especially good with fog and mist," he adds.

I feel a delighted grin spread across my lips. "I have _got_ to see that."

"You saw it once," he says. I look at him in confusion. "The first day back to school, you went to the graveyard afterwards to write in your journal in front of your parents' graves."

I narrow my eyes "That creepy fog was _you?"_ I demand. "What about the raven? Was that you too?"

"Guilty as charged. _That_ time I wanted a look at you with my own eyes," he admits.

"You scared the hell out of me," I exclaim.

"I was _intending_ on cutting you off in the trees and introducing myself. But that blasted brother of mine was already in the woods and you ran into him. I didn't want him to know I was in town yet, so I watched in raven-form from a tree branch above your heads. Even as a bird, I could smell your blood and knew he wouldn't last long. But he had already ruined my plan."

"You said that some of Stefan's senses are better than yours," I point out. "Why didn't he know about you being in town already?"

He smirks and takes a bite from a fry. "Because he didn't _want_ to believe I would come back so soon. The last time we were in Mystic Falls was fifteen years ago. Truly believing something is a powerful tool, especially in vampires. But like all tools, it could work for or against you, depending on how you use it. Stefan didn't _want_ to believe I was around, so his mind dismissed every clue he picked up about my presence in Mystic Falls until I literally showed up on his balcony. He couldn't dismiss the evidence of his own two eyes, after all."

I nibble thoughtfully on my last fry. "Well, since you were apparently in Mystic Falls during the summer, _when_ did you get back and how did you find out about me?" I ask.

"I got back around the same time Stefan did," he says noncommittally.

"_And?_ How did you find out about me, Damon?" I ask, watching him. He's fiddling with his last two fries nervously, like he's not sure if he should answer truthfully. "Damon, I can _handle_ the truth, whatever it may be," I tell him. "To my knowledge, you have never lied to me before. Please don't start now."

He growls softly before looking straight in my eyes. Suddenly, I feel like my mind is held in a powerful, uncompromising grip and I can't tear my eyes away from his. "Remember what was forgotten the night your parents died," he says. I see his eyes dilate and contract rapidly, signaling that he's compelling me.

Before I can wonder what the hell he's talking about, I become ensnared in reliving a memory I didn't know I had.

"_I know Bonnie. You're right. You and my mom both are. I just can't bring myself to tell him," I say into my cell phone. "At least not tonight. Call you tomorrow."_

_As I hang up, a voice full of surprise makes me look up. "Katherine?" the beautiful blue-eyed man breathes. He's standing in the middle of the road and staring straight at me._

"_Um, no," I say as I look over my shoulder, wondering if he's talking to someone behind me. But I'm the only one here. "I'm Elena,"_

"_Oh. You … you just look …," he says, tripping over his tongue. The present me is surprised at this strangeness in Damon's behavior, but my memory-self doesn't know that Damon _never_ gets tongue-tied. He sighs, obviously annoyed with himself. "I'm sorry. You just really remind me of someone," he says, walking closer to me. "I'm Damon."_

"_Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."_

"_You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself."_

"_It's Mystic Falls, nothing bad ever happens here." And now I know why my life has turned upside down. I jinxed it myself. I look down at my phone then return my eyes to his. "Got into a fight with my boyfriend."_

"_About what? May I ask?"_

"_Life. The future. He's got it all mapped out."_

"_You don't want it?"_

"_I don't know what I want."_

"_Well, that's not true. You want what everyone wants."_

"_What, mysterious stranger who has all the answers?" I ask, smirking at him._

"_Well, let's just say that I've been around a long time. I've learned a few things."_

"_So, Damon, tell me. What is it that I want?"_

"_You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure. And even a little danger," he says, walking closer._

"_So what do you want?" I ask, obviously catching him by surprise. Before he can gather his wits again, I turn at a familiar car horn honking. I see my parents' car making it's way towards us. "It's my parents," I say, turning back only to find him directly in front of me. My eyes lock with his and I feel that powerful, uncompromising grip on my mind that means I'm about to be compelled._

"_I want you to get everything you're looking for," he says, his eyes dilating in contracting rapidly as he compels me. "But right now I want you to forget this happened. Can't have people knowing I'm in town yet. Goodnight, Elena."_

I blink my eyes as the memory releases me from its grip. I look at Damon to see he's watching me with a guarded expression. "I didn't know you could be such a romantic," is all I'm able to come up with to say.

He groans while rolling his eyes. But it gets him to relax enough to give me a smirk. "You just found out I met you _before_ my damned brother and then made you forget it. And _that's_ all you can come up with?" he demands, caught between laughter and exasperation.

I shrug with a grin on my lips. "That's all I can think of right now," I tell him. "But I'll probably come up with a whole lot more to say on that topic very soon."

He lets out an exasperated chuckle. "I think it's my brother who saved your life that night," he admits. "I could smell him all over those woods."

"If you had stuck around, you could have been the one to save me," I point out.

"Ah, but then Stefan would have known I was in town long before I was ready for him to," he retorts. "I took off at that point because I didn't dare stick in one spot for too long. I didn't want to risk him discovering I was hanging about."

I look around for Bree and spot her at the far end of the bar. "Hey, Bree," I call.

She signals for me to let her wrap up the conversation she is in. then she makes her way down to our end of the bar. "What can I do for you, sugar?" she asks.

"Do you think we could get something stronger than beer? A _lot_ stronger?" I ask her. I notice Damon raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore him for the moment. "Our conversation has already reached points where we _need_ something strong."

Bree chuckles, plunks two whisky glasses down on the bar, fills them to the rim with top shelf bourbon, and slides one in front of each of us. She leaves the bottle for us. "I've had a conversation or two like that myself," she confides to me in a loud whisper. "You might need that whole bottle before you're through. Let me know if it turns into a multiple bottle conversation." She then retreats from easy listening distance.

"Well, I've never seen _that_ one just hand over a top shelf bottle of _any_ drink," Damon comments. He raises an eyebrow at me. "And who's _paying_ for all this?" he asks.

I smirk at him after taking a swallow, careful not to spill a single drop. _"_You are the one who dragged me along without my wallet or check book," I remind him. "I don't have so much as a _penny_ on me. So _you_ are picking up the tab, Mister Salvatore. And I intend on getting drunk on the good stuff."

He groans. _"You_ have expensive tastes," he tells me.

"I just don't like cheap alcohol. I can barely handle beer, not even what's considered _good_ beer. Besides, _I'm_ not the one who insists on having a designer wardrobe that would draw envy from every Hollywood actor alive."

"I take care of it and it lasts," he protests.

"Clothing from Old Navy and Sears last just as long, is sometimes more comfortable, and _doesn't_ cost a small fortune for just one outfit," I point out. "Hell, I could even go in Wal-Mart and buy _all_ the clothes in my size and _still_ pay less than what _one_ of your outfits costs."

He groans and drains half the bourbon in his glass. "You will _not_ put it to rest, will you?" he asks.

"_I'm_ not the one who brought up the topic of expensive tastes," I tell him. "I doubt that _any_ tab we could run up in here would be even a fraction of what you pay when you go shopping for clothes. I bet that outfit you're wearing right now is worth at _least_ ten grand."

"More like fifteen," he admits.

"I don't even _want_ to know how you can afford such a huge wardrobe when just _one_ outfit costs you fifteen thousand dollars," I groan, taking a long swallow from my bourbon.

"I've been saving and investing ever since I got my first paycheck," he tells me with a grin. "I've racked up a few hundred million over the years. My father admitted that I was good with money when he refused to admit that there was anything else I was good at. He didn't like having to admit it, but I was the one in charge of the family fortune _as well as_ my own personal funds. One reason the Salvatore family was practically royalty in Mystic Falls was that I had managed to get the family funds over the one million dollar mark before I turned twenty. And that was _hard_ to do back then. We were one of the wealthiest families in the entire Confederacy, though I heard rumors of a few families in the Union that had fortunes in the tens of millions."

I narrow my eyes at his proud smirk. "You are _gloating,"_ I accuse.

"It's not gloating when it's true," he retorts with a grin.

So you said the _family_ fortune _then_ was worth over one million. What would that be compared to today?" I ask.

"Over three billion," he replies after a second.

I stare in awe. "That's a lot," I admit.

He scowls, draining his bourbon. I refill it for him. "It would be a much, _much_ higher amount than _that_ today _if_ Father hadn't willed it all to his youngest son, mine and Stefan's half-brother. _That_ brat didn't know a _thing_ about managing money and refused to learn," he says darkly. "The _only_ reason his kids didn't end up living on the street was because I decided to take responsibility where he wouldn't. The woman he had been forced to marry and have kids with was not pleased with what he chose to spend the fortune on. When he reached his early grave with a bullet through in his heart, there was only a few hundred dollars left. I made a deal with the wife and kids: they keep the fact that Stefan and I are vampires a family secret, I'll take care of the bills and rebuild the fortune so they can still be among the respectable folk of Mystic Falls without being ashamed of what they're wearing or what the house looks like. I warned them that this would have to last through the generations of those who inherit the house and any who don't inherit it must never let a word slip, not even to their spouse. I told them Stefan and I better have our own rooms in that house and _no one_ except us was allowed in them in our absence. I also said that each time ownership changed hands, Stefan and I had _better_ be invited back in. They agreed to all the conditions. The living side of the family stuck to their side of the bargain, so I stuck to mine."

"Except you killed Zach and he didn't have any children to pass it on to," I point out, refilling my glass.

He shrugs. "I _never_ promised not to kill any of them," he points out. "I _only_ promised that the bills would be paid and I'd build the family fortune up. And I am _still_ keeping those promises, though there is no one left to keep their side of the bargain."

"Does Stefan know about the deal?" I ask.

"Stefan does _not_ know about the deal. And don't _ever_ tell him about it either. Or anyone else for that matter. I don't know why I even told _you_ about it," he says.

"I will never repeat a _word_ of anything you confide in me. You can trust me," I assure him, taking a swallow of my bourbon.

"For some reason, I do trust you," he tells me. "I haven't trusted _anyone_ since before I was turned. Don't make me regret it."

"I well never betray your trust, Damon," I promise both him and myself. "That's not something friends do."

"Friends?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I like to think we're friends," I tell him.

"Even after everything I've done to you, you _still_ want to be my friend?" he asks, surprised.

"_Everyone_ needs at least _one_ person they can count on to be there for them through everything life throws at them; even as big a dick as you are, you need someone you can trust with everything," I inform him. He chuckles at that. "I want to be that person you can count on, Damon. Call it whatever you like. _I'm_ calling it friendship."

He fills both our glasses again and holds his up. "To friendship, then," he says with a grin.

"To friendship," I repeat, clinking my glass against his.

Hours later

Following that, the hours fly by as Damon and I have fun and get drunk. I completely forget about Lexi's boyfriend and his grudge by the time my phone rings. I pick it up, noticing that it's Jenna. "Jenna!" I answer with a _slight_ slur. She says something, but I can't hear it over the noise of the crowd. "Hold on! It's loud in here. Let me get somewhere a bit quieter," I say, grabbing my jacket and shrugging into it one arm at a time. I step out the door, putting the phone back to my ear. "Okay, now what …" I start, only to be grabbed from behind with a hand over my mouth. I drop my phone as I claw at the hand over my mouth as I'm half-dragged, half-carried around to the spot Lexi's boyfriend had chosen for his ambush on Damon. My buzz disappears the instant I remember why I'm being dragged off.

Soon, Damon shows up. I try to warn him to run, but it's too late. I beg and plead and cajole my heart out in desperation of saving Damon. Finally, I remember what I had said to get him to back off in the first go-round. He grabs Damon by the throat, glares in his eyes, then throws him into a metal wall many yards back before vamping away. I rush to his side. I ignore the reek of gasoline as I kneel beside him. I help him into a sitting position.

I can tell he needs blood to get the breaks healed in any decent amount of time, though he realigns the broken bones easily enough. I roll up my sleeve and shove my arm at him. "Drink," I order him.

"What?" he demands. "No!"

"You need blood to heal, Damon. Drink mine," I tell him. He grits his teeth and looks away from me. "Dammit, Damon. Just _drink_ already! I'm _offering_ my blood for you of my own free will. I _know_ you won't take more than you need. I trust you, even if you don't trust yourself. If you don't bite me, I'll just scratch myself and you won't have a choice. My nails are long and sharp enough to draw blood in one go. I know you haven't fed in at _least_ two or three days, which is why your bones are taking so long to heal. You won't be able to resist the sight and scent of fresh blood."

He sighs, knowing that I can be just as stubborn as him and knowing I _will_ follow through with my threat. He turns back to me. "If I'm going to drink your blood, I might as well do it right," he says softly. He brushes my hair over my shoulder and positions me to where I'm sitting in his lap, my legs straddling his hips.

Before I can ask what he's doing, he dips his head and places his lips at the base of my throat and I realize _exactly_ what he meant be 'do it right'. I know that Damon's favorite spot to drink from a human is at the pulse point at the base of their throat. I force myself to relax as I feel his fangs gently scrape my skin before they pierce the flesh. I had expected pain like I've experienced the occasions I was fed on during the first time I lived these three months. But the only pain is when his fangs initially break through my skin. Immediately after that I collapse against him, panting, moaning, mewling, gasping as wave after wave of pure pleasure like I've never experienced rolls through me, cascading throughout my body from the spot where he's draining my life blood. I think his name falls from my lips a time or two because I can feel his lips curl in a triumphant smirk against my skin as he feeds on me. It's amazing that I can actually tell the difference between each of his smirks when they are so similar.

Soon, too soon, he retracts his fangs. I moan in disappointment that the amazing experience is over already. Then I gasp as his tongue slowly trails over the bite. Then I remember him telling me once that vampire saliva can seal wounds on a human and acts as a kind of disinfectant at the same time. But I know he's also making sure not a drop of my blood remains on the surface of my skin. I sag against him as his tongue teases and swirls over my skin, even in places that I _know_ there is no blood. I can tell he's enjoying holding me in his arms like this as much as I am enjoying being in his arms. I let his tongue and lips do amazing things up and down my throat and over my collarbone.

Finally he sighs against my heated skin and pulls away to look in my eyes. "If we don't move now, we'll end up doing things that should _not_ be done in such crappy surroundings," he tells me.

I groan. "Don't wanna move," I grumble.

He chuckles huskily. "My sentiments exactly. But I'm still doused in gasoline and desperately need to wash it off before the reek of it becomes _trapped_ in my nose. And as much as I'd _love_ to continue, I refuse to share another woman with my brother. _Especially_ if that woman is you."

I growl. "I'm _not_ with him anymore. He lied to me. I have a feeling he'll continue to lie to me to 'protect' me."

"Make it official and I'll _consider_ picking up where we are leaving off tonight," he tells me.

"I'll hold you to that," I warn him.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I still want to get Katherine out of that tomb," he warns me. "I will not let anything stop me from doing that. Not even you."

"I know," I tell him calmly. I hesitate before plunging ahead. "I might know a way of helping you open the tomb."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh?" he asks.

"Emily's grimiore," I say. "And I know where it's hidden."

He narrows his eyes. "And how do you know that?' he asks softly.

I shake my head. "Please don't make me answer that. You will never believe the truth and I don't want to lie to you."

He frowns. "What does Emily's grimiore have to do with the tomb?" he finally asks.

"Promise me something first," I beg.

"Depends on what you want me to promise you," he replies slowly. "I don't make promises lightly because I stick to them no matter what."

"If I ever seem more knowledgeable about things than I have any right to be, _don't_ question it, please. I swear upon my parents' graves that I'll explain everything when the time is right. But I can't tell you anything for quite some time to come."

He narrows his eyes, thinking over my words. I wait patiently for him to come to his decision. Finally he sighs. "I know you would _never_ use that particular swear lightly," he says. "So I promise I won't ask how you know things you shouldn't. But I _will_ hold you to your vow of explaining yourself eventually."

"And I will," I promise. "But it won't be anytime soon, so you'll have to be patient."

"I've never had much patience," he admits. "But I'll try."

I nod. "Emily's grimiore has the spell she used to seal the tomb in it as well as the way of _undoing_ that spell," I tell him.

"Already, you have me regretting my promise," he growls. "So, how will we get a witch to undo the seal?"

"I have to talk to Bonnie's Grams. I think I know how to convince her to help. But you have to _promise_ to burn every vampire in the tomb with the exception of Katherine. I _think_ I can wrangle Anna's mother free of the burning, if I work it right. And no matter _what_ happens, you _have_ to keep that promise."

He raises an eyebrow at my words. "You are keeping something from me. _What_ aren't you telling me?" he asks suspiciously.

"You will not believe me until you see it with your own eyes. So I'm not going to tell you. When we get back, take me by the boarding house first so I can talk to Stefan and get my necklace back, then we'll make a stop at Bonnie's Grams to talk to her about the tomb before I go home."

"The grimiore?" he asks pointedly.

"We'll get it soon after we get back, I promise," I tell him. I pause in thought. "There's a decade dance at the high school coming up soon. The theme is the fifties. I was hoping you'd take me. I have a feeling you're a good dancer and I already know that Stefan hates dancing. Besides, Bonnie and her Grams will need some powerful natural event to call upon for aid in the spell, I'm sure."

"Witches and their hocus pocus," Damon growls. Then he shrugs. "I suppose I could take you to the dance. I liked most of the dances in the fifties. But what will everyone thinks when someone old enough to be a chaperone is dancing with an underage student?"

"Who _cares_ what everyone thinks? It's not as if they know our _true_ age gap. Hell, _I_ don't know our true age gap, since you never _did_ tell me how old you were when you were turned."

He chuckles. _"Physically,_ I'm twenty-four," he informs me. "I was born June 28, 1840."

"That means you're a hundred and sixty-nine," I say after quickly calculating it in my mind. "That makes you a hundred and fifty-two years older than me."

"Yep," he answers, popping the 'p'.

"Apparently I find older men _extremely_ attractive," I mutter to myself, even though I know he can hear me.

He just chuckles. "So, are we going to sit _here_ all night? Or are we going to go find a motel room and sleep in a proper bed?"

I sigh. "As much as I like the position we're in right now, I think you _really_ need to wash that gas off," I tell him. "And why are _you_ going to sleep? I know vampires don't technically _need_ sleep."

"Well, there are times when even a vampire gets tired out," he admits. "Besides, sleeping is a good way to pass the time when nothing interesting is going on."

I slowly get out of his lap and stand up. He's stands up so fast that all I blink and I miss seeing him move. I shake my head. "Sometimes, you and Stefan make me wish _I_ was a vampire," I inform him.

He raises an eyebrow. "That can easily be arranged, you know," he points out. _"You_ would make an excellent vamp."

"_I_ will have to take that offer into careful consideration and get back to you on it," I reply. "I'm not sure I'm ready to give up being human _just_ yet. I'm not even a legal adult yet. Not in the US at least."

He chuckles. "Just give me the word and I'll be happy to turn you," he tells me.

"_Stefan_ wouldn't like that you made that offer," I point out as we begin slowly making our way back to the Camaro.

"_Stefan_ can't stand the idea that _anyone_ would _want_ to be turned," he retorts.

"You know, I _do_ think his diet of animal blood is a little _wrong._ Especially considering it's humanity that's ruining the planet," I comment. _"But,"_ I say, cutting off whatever he had opened his mouth to say, " I also don't think _killing_ all humans is right either."

"Of course not," he growls. "Without humans, vampires would be _forced_ to turn to the Stefan diet. Without humans, there would be no more new vampires. _And_ without humans, immortality would be a complete bore. Humans are usually the ones who come up with all the advances in technology that makes life increasingly fascinating. Besides, humans outnumber vampires by a _huge_ amount. I'm not sure about the exact figures since I have no idea how many vamps are in the world. But there are at _least_ five hundred thousand humans for every vamp. I get the feeling that the exact ration fluctuates every day." We arrive at the Camaro. He pauses, glaring at Bree's Bar. "I'll be right back," he growls.

I grab his wrist before he can walk off. He glances at me. "Don't kill her, Damon," I beg.

"She almost had _me_ killed," he growls.

"Please, Damon," I plead. "I don't want the memory of such a magnificent day tainted with the knowledge that you killed her. For the sake of preserving this wonderful day, please don't kill her."

He frowns, running his free hand through his hair. "You enjoyed the day that much?" he asks finally.

"Yes. And if she _hadn't_ let that vamp know you were in town, what I consider the best part of the whole day would not have happened," I tell him. He raises an eyebrow in question. "The best part was where you pulled me into your lap and drank my blood," I admit, positive that my blush is causing my face to glow. "I never thought being fed on could fell so wonderful."

He gives me a sly smirk. "Being fed on could range from sheer torture to absolute paradise for a human," he informs me. "It depends on three major things: what the vamp _wants_ the human to experience, whether the human was _completely_ willing to be fed on, and how relaxed the human is during the feeding."

"Even absolute paradise couldn't compare to what I felt," I reply with a small smile. "And if Bree hadn't betrayed you, I wouldn't have had that wonderful experience to top off an already perfect day."

He let's out a sound that's half groan, half growl. "Then I better let her know you are actually _thanking_ her for betraying me," he grumbles, but I can hear the pleased undertone. "I won't kill her. But I will warn her against ever trying it again." He unlocks the Camaro. "Get in, buckle up, and lock the doors. I'll be right back. I still got to get my jacket."

I obey and watch him head inside. Not even five minutes later, he walks back out with his jacket in his hand. He unlocks the Camaro and climbs in the driver's seat. He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. "I didn't kill her. But I made _certain_ she understood that you are the _only_ reason her heart isn't lying on the floor, separate from her body," he tells me as he steers the car towards a hotel as far from the bar as the town allows, even though it means heading south rather north. "She also confirmed what you said about the grimiore being the only option left. I am already impatient for the day you explain how you knew about it to arrive."

"There are likely to be a _lot_ of things I will say and do that will only heighten that impatience," I murmur.

"You're certain you can convince Sheila to help me? After all, I _did_ try to kill her granddaughter," he reminds me unnecessarily.

"I'm not _completely_ certain. But she is a better bet than Bonnie. She's the more experienced witch, as well as the more powerful. And I have a feeling I'm the only one who can get her to completely go along with the plan. But you _have_ to keep the promise of burning _all_ the tomb vampires except Pearl and Katherine, _no matter what._ Not burning them will make things _very_ difficult all around."

He shakes his head. "You know _way_ too much, and I am seriously curious about how you know it," he grumbles.


	3. Resistance is Impossible

Setting Things Right  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter two. I hope you enjoy. There's a yummy smut scene that's part comfort, part need in this chapter.

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
If I owned the series, I would have had the sexual tension between Damon and Elena boil over a _hell_ of a lot sooner. Obviously I don't own the series. All I own is what you read.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_  
Wow, I'm _so_ happy that everyone liked what I've put up so far. _Yes,_ I know it's going a bit fast-paced and _yes,_ I know in the show Elena didn't _ever_ want to be a vampire, but as I said in the warnings section of the prologue: this is an _alternate universe._ Elena had to live three months with Damon _really_ dead, as in never-coming-back-again dead, and she never had the chance to show him just how much she loved him. Hell, she didn't _realize_ how much she loved him until _after_ he was gone. So she plans on making up for it big time this go around. And eventually, when the time is right, she _will_ ask to be turned. And she will _definitely_ have to do some convincing to make him realize she is _serious_ about her request.

* * *

Chapter 2  
Resistance is Impossible

"One bed or two?" Damon asks as he pulls into the parking lot of a Super 8 on the opposite side of town from Bree's Bar.

"One is good," I reply with a sly smirk.

He groans. "You're playing with fire, Elena," he warns me as he pulls to a stop outside the office.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I tease. He merely raises an eyebrow at me before getting out and heading into the office.

He returns a few minutes later and climbs back into the driver's seat. He guides the car down to a set of stairs at the far end of the building. "We're on the second floor," he tells me as we get out. He locks the car and heads around to the trunk. He opens it and pulls out a new outfit. He slams the trunk and then leads me up the stairs and to our room.

He uses the card key to let us in. Taking up most of the space in the main part of the room is a king-sized bed. On a long, low dresser on the wall opposite the bed is a TV. A desk and chair is situated next to the dresser. There's a nightstand with a lamp on either side of the bed. On nightstand holds the clock and the other has the phone. At the back of the room is the area with the sink and acrylic counter backed by a giant mirror. Through a door to the right of that is the bathroom, where a toilet and tub are situated. Basically your typical one-bed motel room.

"I'm taking a shower," he tells me.

"Mind if I use the toilet first?" I ask, feeling the sudden need to pee.

He smirks and motions for me to go ahead. I quickly use the toilet and flush it. As I step out to wash my hands, Damon heads in with just his boxer-briefs. I know from first-hand experience that he _prefers_ sleeping in the nude. I wouldn't mind that arrangement in the least, but I don't tell him that. I take off my shirt and jeans to let them air out overnight. Then I climb under the covers. I _intend_ to wait for Damon to get out of the shower so I can see his reaction to finding that I plan on sleeping in my undies, but my body has other ideas. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow, being drawn into the same nightmare I've had every time I fell asleep since Damon died three months before the day Bonnie sent me six months into the past.

_I find myself racing down hall after hall of a building that is in flames. I know Damon is in the basement of this building, and I know I need to find him and save him. But I search a seemingly endless maze of halls and check countless doors for the one that opens to the stairs to the basement._

_I can feel the flames licking at my skin, burning me, but I continue my search. I call out his name often, listening for his voice to give me a hint of which direction to go. But I don't hear anything except for the roar of the flames and the crackling of the wood as the fire causes the ceiling to give in places._

_My skin is getting badly burnt and my clothes are scorched with holes burned clean through. The smoke is making it hard to see and is flooding my lungs. The scorching hot air is sucking the breath right out of me. The metal doorknobs pull flesh from my hands each time I let them go. But I can't stop my search. If I stop looking, Damon dies. And if Damon dies, my life won't have meaning. I keep calling to, though my voice is weak and rough from the smoke. Then I catch fire, and I cry out in despair, knowing Damon is _dead. _I barely feel the flames as a black hole opens within me._

_Suddenly, cool hands touch my burning flesh and starts shaking me. A familiar voice calls my name, demanding that I wake up. I'm asleep? This is just a nightmare?_

I snap my eyes open, feeling tears running down my cheeks. Damon is hovering over me, worry filling his expression. I quickly realize that I had kicked the covers to the foot of the bed while I was sleeping. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him tight enough that I'd be strangling him if he were human. He pulls me flush against him, his arms holding me tight. I tilt my head back to find his mouth with mine. He freezes as I crush my lips to his and press my hips firmly against his.

But he seems to sense that I truly _need_ what I'm asking for. If I was calling out to him out loud while trapped in the nightmare, as I've been told I do, he must be _extremely_ curious about what I was dreaming that would cause me to call for him and then _demand_ his sexual attention upon waking. But he puts his curiosity to the side for the moment to answer my very real need for him.

After being frozen for several seconds in shock, he returns the kiss by flicking his tongue over my lips, asking permission. I eagerly part them and he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He slowly, sensuously tastes and explores every corner and crevice in my mouth before teasing and stroking my tongue with his. I moan into the kiss. He gently pulls my tongue into his mouth. I explore and taste his mouth the in the same slow, sensual fashion he did mine. I can feel his erection forming rapidly against my hip and we're just _kissing!_

I trail my hands down his chest and over his stomach slowly, memorizing every rippling muscle under his cool skin. He runs his hands down my back to the clasps of my bra, quickly undoing them as my hands slowly venture lower and lower. When I grab his rock hard dick through his boxer-briefs and give it a squeeze, he _growls_ into the kiss. He pulls away from the kiss to pull my bra off and toss it away from the bed. Then he dips his head down to my chest. I cry out as his cool breath hits my breast just before his mouth pulls it in.

His hand cups my other breast and starts massaging and teasing it as his tongue does the most _amazing_ things to the one in his mouth. Soon, I'm gasping for breath and he switches breasts to deal the same treatment to both. My hands find their way back up his body and bury themselves in his hair. I'm not sure if I'm trying to hold his head where it is or just hold him. Soon, I feel him tug my panties off me in one lightning fast move that somehow _doesn't_ tear them. They follow the general direction of my bra. He pulls back to take in my naked form beneath him.

His eyes focus on my left hip and he brings his fingers to trace my birthmark. It looks _exactly_ like two linked hearts with an arrow piercing through both of them. I can decide if I'm proud of it or embarrassed by it. "So, there _is_ a physical difference after all," he murmurs huskily. I look at him in confusion. "She doesn't have a birthmark," he tells me gently.

My mouth forms a silent 'o' as understanding dawns on me. Stefan never told me that. Before I can come up with something to say, Damon spreads my legs and arranges himself so that he can kiss the inside of my thigh, which I know is his _second_ favorite place to bite a human. He reaches his hand up and runs his thumb over my clit, causing me to yelp as the already powerful arousal writhing in me heightens even more. He chuckles against my skin before kissing his way up my thigh. He keeps rubbing my clit with the calloused pad of his thumb.

Stefan had never brought out such heights of passion and arousal in me. Then Damon's mouth closes over my core and I soar even higher. I bury my hands in his hair again, holding him right there. While he starts suckling on me, he slides one finger deep inside of me, slowly pumping. Damon knows that at this point, I've barely any experience in this particular field. But I know that with him leading me, my knowledge will grow by leaps and bounds. I gasp when he inserts a second finger in beside the first and starts a scissor action as he pumps me to stretch my inner walls. All the while, he continues to suckle and nip at the bundle of nerves around my entrance.

I feel myself drawing closer and closer to my climax. When he adds a third finger, I feel my walls tighten around his hand. Then, just before I boil over, his fingers are gone. I start to moan in disappointment only for it to turn to a moan of excitement as his cool tongue replaces his fingers. I cry out his name as the mere feeling of his tongue inside me sends my flying over the edge. He growls as he eagerly swallows my juices as they pour over his tongue and into his waiting mouth. Only _after_ I am left gasping as my orgasm finally plays out does he pull away. He kicks out of his boxer-briefs and I know what is coming next.

He trails kisses back up my body to the bite mark he had left earlier. He gives me a questioning look, which I respond to by arching my neck so he can have better access. He smirks before burying his face against my neck. I feel his fangs elongate against my flesh as he places his massive head against my entrance. He sinks his fangs into my flash, lining up perfectly with the bite mark already there. At the same time, he slides his _very_ large erection into me. I manage _not_ to stiffen at the flash of pain from my core. I already knew he is _much_ larger than even three fingers.

He holds perfectly still, waiting patiently while I grow accustomed to the feel of him inside me, not even drinking my blood until I am able to completely relax again. I don't know how he keeps my blood from pouring out of the bite, but he manages it. Finally, I am able to give a small nod, signaling he can start. He growls in contentment as he starts feeding on my blood while slowly pumping in and out of me. He picks up his speed as I spiral to that dizzying height of pleasure beyond even paradise that I seem to only be able to reach when he's got his fangs in me.

I dig my nails into his back is I spiral higher and higher. I bury my face in his shoulder as he shows me just how expert a lover he really is. Tentatively, I scrape my blunt human teeth over his skin. When his only response is to tilt his head slightly to the side, baring his neck for me, I take that as a go ahead. I bite down, breaking skin. His blood rushes into my mouth, tasting extremely sweet and rich. I greedily swallow it.

Suddenly, he hits my sweet spot and my hips buck. He chuckles against my throat, in spite of still feeding on my blood. He alters his position slightly and resumes his pace, hitting that sweet spot each time. My hips rise to meet him now, and soon we are slamming against each other. I sink my teeth deeper in his shoulder as the already mind-boggling pleasure racing through me somehow grows even _more_ powerful. I can feel my body quivering for release and I feel his dick pulsating inside of me, showing he's close to his own orgasm.

A few more pumps sends me soaring towards the heavens. One more, and he's right on my tail. He collapses against me as we fly among the clouds together. I barely feel his fangs retract and his tongue slowly slide over the area to both seal the bite and lap up the pooled blood. I manage to force myself to pull away from his shoulder. I place a kiss over the flesh I bit into even as it heals beneath my lips.

He turns us so we're on our sides, facing each other without separating from our joining. He holds me against him as he lets out a breathless chuckle. I look up at him. "What's so funny?" I ask.

"You _actually_ wore me out. Normally I could go for hours, but you somehow managed to wear me out in one go," he informs me with a wry grin.

I smile. "Really?' I ask, taking delight in actually wearing out a vampire in just _one_ round.

"Really," he assures me. He shakes his head, a look of wonder lighting up his face. "I have _never_ had a partner like you."

"Not even Katherine?" I ask hesitantly.

"Not even Katherine," he replies. He raises a hand to my cheek. "Will you tell me now what that nightmare was about?" he asks gently, stroking my bottom lip with his thumb. "You were thrashing about and crying out to me. Then you woke up and got me to do all that when I told myself I _wouldn't_ until after you and Stefan were officially over."

My vivid nightmare rushes back to the front of my mind and I bury my face against his chest to hide my tears. "I was in a burning building," I murmur against his skin, knowing he can hear me. "I _knew_ you were in there, too. I knew you needed help. Someone had gotten vervaine into you and put you in the basement before setting the building on fire. The flames were so hot that it was like the air itself was on fire. The building was collapsing around me and I was getting badly burnt, but I couldn't leave until I found you. But none of the doors I opened led to the basement. Then suddenly _I_ was on fire and I somehow knew you were dead."

He tilts my head up and presses his lips to mine. Unlike the heated kisses we shared earlier, this one is tender and reassuring. I return the kiss through my tears. Finally he pulls away. "I am _not_ going to die; not in a fire or any other way," he tells me gently, looking into my eyes to make me see that he truly believes his own words.

"I hope not," I whisper, raising my hand to cup his face. "I really hope not."

He pulls me closer. "Would you like me to sing the lullabies my mother sang to me while you sleep to keep the nightmares away?" he asks softly.

I curl my lips into a smile as I lay my head on his chest. "You sing?" I ask teasingly.

"Not often. And you would be the first to hear me sing in a _very_ long time," he informs me. "Of course, you won't understand a word. The lullabies are Italian."

"I'd love to hear you sing. Maybe one day you could translate them for me," I say softly.

"Or maybe one day I could teach you Italian. They sound _so_ much better in that language," he says before he starts singing softly. Hearing his rich, velvet voice shape the Italian lyrics quickly soothes me. I close my eyes as he strokes his fingers through my hair while he sings.

I soon fall into a deep sleep, the haunting melodies following me into my dreams. For the first time in such a very long time, I sleep peacefully, free of the nightmare that has been haunting me. Instead, I dream of Damon and I riding horses in the countryside. I vaguely realize he is using his power of dream manipulation to keep the nightmare at bay.


End file.
